Or Braunston as some people call it. A place where;
- Boating neighbors ignore you when you greet them.
- Villagers call you ‘spaz’ on the towpath as you pass.
- Random boaters assault you.
- Your car is vandalised when you leave it overnight.
- Fishermen give you death stares as you approach them.
Boaters paradise… Good value eh?
The people vandalise, assault, steal and are generally as unpleasant as they can be without resorting to violence. Which is not always true….
Remember this guy? He decided he didn’t like me when I was eating dinner al-fresco, and he was retrieving a tyre from the other side of the canal.
Today I got back and found my bike like this.
It was, chained to the visitor mooring signs. Rather than leave it alone, let’s steal the worthless parts off it….
The more I come here, the worse the experience becomes.
I’m just wondering what they can destroy, steal or vandalise on my next visit.
I’ve moved down a bit, closer to my next port of call which is due on the 10th August. Until then, I’m due to hang around a bit in the middle of rural Warwickshire.
Who killed Bambi?
Actually, I saved poor old Bambi when she fell in the canal. This is her wrapped up in towels.
Poor thing was swimming around outside making a squeaking sound like a trapped bird.
Couldn’t get out, the sides were too steep.
Some of the other boaters came out to watch, but went back into their boats after taking a good look, and Bambi was left to swim on, looking for a safe place to come up the bank.
Unfortunately for Bambi, no such place existed. So, I put my shorts on, and followed her down the canal towpath.
As she was going along, making her squeaking noise, she stopped on shallow ledges sometimes, and shivered uncontrollably. After making a few fruitless scrambles up the bankside, she slid back into the water to continue her hopeless journey.
She was obviously very cold, and getting exhausted.
Most of the time, she was over the other side of the canal, but my plan was to grab her as she went under the next bridge, where it’s much narrower, and I could bend down and scoop her out.
I moved out in front, further up the towpath toward the forthcoming bridge. As I did that, she came over to the near bank. I was able to climb in, only being about 3 feet deep and by this time, she was not really concerned by the threat of the human (me), as she was very close to death.
I was stood in the water up to my waist on the mud and silt on the ledge at the side of the canal.
I moved up alongside. And she kind of swam into my arms, like a giant trout.
I put my hands underneath her and picked her up and threw her on the bank.
Shock and exhaustion
As she lay there on the bank shivering, I wondered how long this animal had been in the canal, or how far she’d swam.
Eventually, after about 10-15 seconds the fawn pulled herself to her feet, ran about 15 yards into the field of barley, and collapsed again.
I climbed out of the canal, only wet to below the waist, and wiped the mud off my trainers.
As I sat there, I expected the beast to haul ass, jump up and make a bid for freedom. So I sat, and sat, for maybe about 5 minutes.
Nothing…. No movement. Just shivering of barley stems at the spot where she had fallen over.
I got up, and approached her resting place and saw her shivering uncontrollably. Not able to move, I picked her up and walked with her in my arms, like a little baby, across the field toward where the other boaters were.
Took about 5 minutes and when I got the the boat closest to mine with my deer-baby in arms, the boaters virtually ignored me. “What”?
Not really obvious, “that deer you were watching die in the canal, I pulled it out, have you got any towels”? – “What”?
A self explanatory situation does not need explaining. So, I had to move on to the next boat. Luckily, they had a young puppy and there were many towels to hand which the boaters willingly handed over and I duly wrapped Bambi up in.
She tried to run away a couple of times. Because of the coldness and exhaustion, only managed to get about 3 yards.
It’s a wrap
The picture is of her wrapped up after I’d dried her all out.
As I approached her trying to make a video, which I’m not very good at as you can see, (you need to keep your finger on the record button). She made another bid for freedom, and this time made it about 25 yards, down to the bend in the canal.
I strolled down and saw her shivering in the hedge. Not so uncontrollably this time, just resting as it were.
As I was considering my next move, she upped and left, ran off across the field and out of sight…
For a fox.
Apparently, on talking to one of the concerned dog walkers that had been at the scene, mama deer was out in the field that night at around 9pm, about the time I pulled Bambi out, “making a hell of a racket”.
I suspect that after the initial shock and recovery, Bambi will be ok and probably be re-united with mama deer and have forgotten about the whole epsidoe. Sorry, episode.
Until the next time she decides to take a drink from the canal, memories will return, a death-flash of subconscious foreboding, and she’ll step back from the edge….
Or you would hope so….
Nothing so dumb as an animal that makes the same mistake twice.